One of my many guilty pleasures is the sappy holiday made for t.v. movie.  I love the one with the frosty, no nonsense business woman whose heart is melted by the fun loving family oriented guy.  Then there's the one with the happy-go-lucky stranger, who wanders into town and opens someone's eyes to what love really is.

It doesn't matter that I know exactly how the movie will unfold.  I willingly get sucked into the cozy predictability of stock characters, contrived events, and happily ever after.  Add in a downtown dazzle of colorful lights and toy displays for the exterior scenes, and a blazing hearth and golden candlelight to warm the interior scenes, and I'm lulled into a dreamy haze of holiday cheer.

Every cheesy plot point has me grinning like a fool:  the first, awkward meeting between the protagonist and the love interest showcasing their initial dislike of each other; the moment in which she drops a package and in the scramble to pick it up their hands touch and their faces come unnaturally close.  I know at the end of the second act everything will fall apart.  She will learn a horrible truth about him and feel betrayed, or he will be seized by fear and run away, crushing all her hopes.  But in the end, love conquers all, and whether it's with a kiss or a diamond ring, everything turns out just the way it should.

It doesn't matter that the same few scripts keep getting revamped and reused.  I played out those same stories countless times before I became too old for dolls.  I guess there's still a little girl inside me who believes in fairytales, who will take any chance to indulge in the fantasy of wishes come true and picture perfect romances.